Who needs feet, anyway?

Those who know me know that I am a big fan of Doc Martens, and (big fashionista that I am) they are an essential part of my outfit.

I mean, aside from the odd socks. What I don’t understand is, why are pairs of odd socks a thing? Why would you pay £3 for something that poor people do for free after their washing machines have devoured their nicest pair?

Anyway, back to the not-so-important point… I love Docs and have a large collection, from Adventure Time to strange tartan, there’s a pair for every outfit.

So, it would only make sense that I asked Ian for another pair for Christmas. This came with VERY specific instructions, because I made the mistake of asking for Doc Martens before and ended up with shiny ones that wouldn’t go with any outfit at all.

I said:
‘Plain matte black Docs. Size 4. Like these ones’ and showed him a picture. He went and bought some, and checked with me before he even bought them. They were a size bigger, which I knew was fine because I’d only just discovered that I’d been wearing the wrong size all my life.

So Christmas came, I pretended to be surprised when I opened them, and everything was great. Until I started to walk in them.

I just couldn’t walk. My legs weren’t working the right way, they were either bending too much or not at all. Then came the blisters. I can deal with blisters, but my foot seemed to be more of one huge blister than an actual foot.

Then came the numbness. I was at the pub with my mum at the time, and we were about to stop at the local on the way home. I managed to get to the local before ripping my swollen, blue blister out of the shoe.

I could not get that shoes back on my foot, so I walked home the rest of the way. Some men in the pub were laughing at me and asked if my Docs were new, so I assumed they just needed wearing in. And, being the stubborn bitch I am, I continued to wear them for a few days, but there was no improvement.

After getting back to Crewe, I left them for about two weeks and gave my feet time to heal. I decided I would try again, you know, to ‘wear them in.’ I walked all the way to Nando’s, (I know, how cheeky) but had to get a taxi back when my popped blisters got blisters. This was a new level of pain I had never experienced, I’m pretty sure it’s up there with child birth.

Yet the stubbornness in me raged on, and this morning, I decided I would wear them yet again. On the way to uni I picked up some blister plasters, because I am an adult and there was something very adult-ish about that. I stuck the plasters on when I got to lecture, and now, even though my feet are numb, there is no pain. But then again, I am sat down. I’m also pretty sure I just limped to the toilet.

I don’t know what it is. I bought some insoles for them (yet another adult thing to do, I’m on a role.) so that can’t be what’s wrong. Maybe it’s because they’re a size too big, but my other Docs are fine? Whatever the reason behind my suffering is, I’m so close to not having feet thanks to the inherited stubbornness I possess. (Thanks, Mum. Of all the things to pass down, why that trait?)

I’ll let you all know how my walk home goes when I’m writing my next Blog from the hospital.

Enjoy your non-painful week. And if anybody knows what my problem is, let me know please.

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